An Academic in the Amazon

Amazon Rainforest, view from the observation tower Museu da Amazônia in Manaus. Photo courtesy of Macarena Montes Franceschini.

This was not my first time in the Amazon Rainforest. I visited the Ecuadorian Amazon 13 years ago. I had recently finished my last year of Law School at the University of Chile and wanted to enjoy the last summer before preparing for the terrifying examen de grado. The final exam is public and oral, taking around ten months to prepare. My only goal was to relax on white-sand beaches and see animals in the rainforest. I was not thinking about climate change, deforestation or the sixth mass extinction of animal species. Fast-forward to 2024, and I am an animal rights legal scholar who deeply worries about all these issues.

In my research, I discuss how industrial animal agriculture is a planetary threat and how cattle ranching deforests the Amazon. But I wanted to see these issues with my own eyes and learn from the people who live in the Amazon and are fighting against deforestation and climate change. Harvard professor Marcia Castro duly recommended that the Harvard Amazon Rainforest Immersion group (HARI) come to the Amazon with open minds and no solutions. I tried my best to follow her advice.

I saw animal rights theory and advocacy in practice through a two-week immersion in the Brazilian Amazon with a heterogeneous group of professors, scientists, researchers, students and journalists from Harvard, Brazil and other Latin American countries organized by Harvard’s David Rockefeller Center for Latin America Studies (DRCLAS).

It is difficult to dimension how big the Amazon Rainforest is until you are there. The Amazon Basin is 2.72 million square miles (6.9 million square kilometers), roughly the size of the contiguous United States. Brazil contains two-thirds of the Amazon Rainforest.

On top of the observation tower in Museu da Amazônia, I could see the rainforest stretching to the horizon. I usually fear heights, but viewing the rainforest from the top of the 137-foot tower and watching two toucans having what sounded like a stimulating conversation and a group of howler monkeys moving swiftly through the canopy was hypnotizing.

Amazon Rainforest, view from the observation tower Museu da Amazônia in Manaus. Photo courtesy of Macarena Montes Franceschini

In the city of Manaus, where the Río Negro meets the Río Solimões, the river can be easily confused with the ocean. Its vastness is striking. If you are lucky, you can even see dolphins. I saw pink dolphins’ back arch out of the water three times during the trip and gasped in awe every time. Amazon pink river dolphins are an endangered freshwater species incidentally caught in fishing lines, hunted and affected by dams, pollution and habitat loss.

Meeting of Waters, where Río Negro meets the Río Solimões in Manaus. The rivers do not mix due to differences in temperature, speed, and sediments in the water. Photo courtesy of Macarena Montes Franceschini.

The Amazon can also feel intimidating. The  HARI group slept in hammocks outdoors in the heart of the primary forest, where I anticipated sweltering nights but was instead greeted by a cold breeze. I took a daring swim in the warm Amazon River even though I feared anacondas, electric eels, black caimans and piranhas. I meticulously avoided contact with trees and plants to prevent hidden snakes, spiders, or frogs, and I always checked my hiking boots before putting them on and my backpack before opening it.

HARI’s group of women at Camp 41, where we spent two nights sleeping in the hammocks seen behind us. Photo by Macarena Montes Franceschini.

As a vegan, I was initially concerned about the food options on the trip. However, Maria Eugenia Rocha Tezza from Academia Amazônia Ensina, one of the HARI organizers, arranged a delicious, locally sourced vegan menu. I enjoyed tucumã burgers, made from the edible fruit of the native tucumã palm used to make juice, oil, and, luckily for me, vegan burgers. However, it is not a matter of luck that these vegan burgers exist. It is the result of successful public policy.

The Western Amazônia and Amapá Information Technology Law No. 8.387/1991, amended by Law No. 13.969/2019, provides tax exemptions to companies in the Manaus Industrial Hub, provided they invest 5% of their annual revenue in regional R&D. In 2019, the Federal Government (SUFRAMA) established the Bioeconomy Priority Program (PPBio), managed by IDESAM, to channel these investments into Amazonian startups. PPBio aims to promote economic growth while conserving nature.

PPBio supports several innovative startups in Manaus. Amazônia Smart Food produces vegan protein alternatives like burgers, sausages, and meatballs using Amazonian ingredients such as tucumã and açai. Terramazônia creates powdered supplements from açai, camu camu, guarana, and cupuaçu, as well as vegan powdered milk. Additionally, PPBio backs vegan and cruelty-free cosmetics, including Amakos, and a startup that produces pracaxi oil, an Amazonian plant valued for its anticoagulant properties.

Throughout the trip, we saw and were informed about other innovations and challenges. Biologists, zoologists, chemists, demographers, historians, advocates and lawyers, among others, lectured the HARI group on the issues surrounding the Brazilian Amazon. Brazil’s Legal Amazon (Amazônia) comprises nine states ranked among the poorest in the country. Over 28 million people live in this area. In the Amazonas state, communities are isolated and depend on rivers for transportation. People’s access to health, education, work and food is impacted by climate change, which has made the dryer season longer with more severe droughts and the construction of dams. Far from being clean energy sources, dams contribute to climate change, emitting significant amounts of CO2 and methane.

Plastic contamination also affects the health of local communities. Microplastics have been found in human blood, breast milk, placenta and brain tissues. The Amazon’s size and isolation are no exception to plastic pollution. Brazil ranks among the top 16 contributors to plastic leakage into the ocean and the top 20 generating single-use plastic waste. The Amazon basin is a major contributor to plastic pollution in the sea.

Indigenous peoples and local communities are defending their lands against deforestation caused by cattle ranchers and illegal gold mining, which is responsible for mercury pollution in the water and linked to organized crime. Many uncontacted Indigenous communities live in the Amazon, but ranching and illegal mining are threatening their survival.

Humans and other animals face similar threats. Ranching, mining, dam construction, droughts and pollution from mercury and plastics harm animals, leading to extinction, habitat loss, illness and inability to handle rising temperatures. For instance, microplastics are found in fish gills and plastic ingestion is weakening and killing manatees.

While staying at Camp 41, 50 miles north of Manaus, we took an evening hike through the primary forest and found numerous plastic and glass bottles and cans. Biologist Mario Cohn-Haft, who led the hike, explained that illegal hunters were leaving the trash behind. Photo by Macarena Montes Franceschini.

Fish is the primary protein source in the Amazon. People also hunt and raise animals like chickens. During a visit to the Uatumã Community, I saw a stark contrast between their chickens and those from U.S. factory farms. Uatumã chickens were lean, active and agile, roaming freely and pecking in the garden with the choice to stay in coops. Western industrial animal agriculture confines and slaughters billions of animals on high-speed lines, causing immense suffering to the animals, workers, and nearby communities while causing severe environmental damage. Factory-farmed animals are genetically selected to produce more meat, eggs, milk, and larger litters, sacrificing their well-being in the process.

Western broiler chickens are bred to grow so rapidly that their legs cannot support their bodies, spending most of their time lying down. If human babies grew at the same rate as chickens in CAFOS, they would weigh 660 pounds by two months old. In contrast, the Uatumã Community’s practices differ significantly. They do not use genetic selection to boost meat production or confine chickens in overcrowded conditions, restricting their natural behavior.

Chicken in the Uatumã Community. I thank my friend Danny Su for allowing me to use this image.

The Harvard Amazon Rainforest Immersion reveals the deep connection between human and animal struggles. It underscores the need for diverse social movements—human rights, Indigenous rights, environmental protection, rights of nature and animal rights—to unite against destructive industries like animal agriculture, plastic production, mining and the development of pharaonic constructions. The trip highlights the urgent need to ban industrial animal agriculture for ethical and environmental reasons in Brazil and the rest of the world. It also shows how effective public policy can facilitate a just transition to a plant-based diet by supporting vegan protein startups.